Bodily functions
by tsu647
Summary: Now that Viking and dragon live side by side, each has a chance to see the other up close, but sometimes these close quarters can lead to some comedic misunderstandings. A series of one-shots based around the differences in mind and body of two entirely different species.
1. Misinterpreted Tears

Misinterpreted Tears

It was quite a dreary day, full of low clouds, threats of rain, body numbing periods of cold mixed with blustering winds and storms of random snowflakes. It was, all in all, a fairly standard day on Berk, lacking in any interesting occurrences worthy of a Night Fury's attention. Nothing had yet set it apart from any other day on this gray, forsaken slip of land, and I began to doubt anything would.

With nothing worthwhile occurring, and the tailfin in the forge undergoing a refit, Hiccup desperately tried to think of something to do, and eventually settled for a measly walk in the woods. As we slowly wandered the forest, our thoughts drifted, his to inventions, things to do, and Astrid, mine to fish and flight and fish. Hiccup was so caught up in thinking that he paid little attention to the path in front of him, and nearly walked into a low hanging branch sticking out into the pathway before him. He swatted it aside startled, and in retaliation it snapped back, catching him solidly in the bridge of the nose. Feeling particularly vengeful, I blew the would-be assassin branch to dust, then, partly out of annoyance, partly out of boredom, proceeded to make short work of the rest of the tree.

As I turned back to Hiccup, I realized something was amiss. He had his hands over his nose, shaking his head from side to side. "Stings every time" He muttered angrily. After a moment he took his hands away from his face, looking no worse for the wear, except… BY THE GODS, HIS EYES WERE LEAKING! A thin stream of clear liquid streamed down his face, dripping off his nose and chin. He appeared not to notice, which distracted me from my panic for a moment. How could one not notice that his face was running with eye-juice? But then the panic took over again. I had to do something, there had to be something! The village, I had to get him to the village, they would know what to do.

I rushed toward him, catching the back of his pants in my teeth and hauling him bodily through the forest and into the village square. I waited for someone to come and help, but no one seemed to realize the danger Hiccup was in. all the people did was double over like they had been hit in the stomach and slap their knees, making the sound Hiccup described as "laughing". Then, like a scene from a nightmare, I realized that all their eyes were leaking, the precious liquid flowing freely down their faces.

The other dragons quickly realized the horrible condition overtaking their humans, and after a brief moment of chaos, each collected their human, and as a single body looked to each other, hoping someone knew what to do. I thought for a moment, and then remembered that whenever a Viking got sick, he went to the tiny woman who lived on the top of the village. I turned and bounded up the hill, the mass of dragons following behind. We stopped before the small house, and I cautiously knocked on the door with a wingtip. After a moment, the small, shriveled form of the elder opened the door, appearing surprised at the sight of the entire village looking back at her from the clutches of their dragons. We all waited tensely, expecting her to rush forward and help stem the terrible eye-juice flood. We looked into her eyes, and groaned as a whole as her eyes began to slowly leak as well.


	2. Optically Reflective

Optically Reflective

Hiccup couldn't sleep, and it was all Toothless' fault. It wasn't that the lizard was trying to be a bother, no, he was in fact behaving admirably, sitting perfectly still at the end of the bed, like an ebony statue. While some may have felt discomfort at the thought of a killing machine at the foot of the bed, most people weren't Hiccup. To him, it was a comfort, having his living shadow close by. The only problems were Toothless' eyes.

Dragons, you see, have eyes that not only reflect light, but seem to actively emit a fairly bright luminescence. While this can prove quite handy at times, this curious trait causes one very unfortunate problem. For while few dragons sleep in the house, nearly all feel the need to check in on their humans at various times in the night. Where is the problem in that, you say? Well, the problem is that most Vikings, while capable of sleeping through a raging thunderstorm, will awake in an instant at the sound of a dragon, no matter how faint or innocent. This instinct, coupled with the highly refractive traits of a dragons eyes, causes rounds of screaming to echo through the night, along with many stories of pairs of "will-o-wisps" haunting the village, despite Hiccups attempts to explain.

So, lying in his bed watching the two torches at the end of the bed, which of course would not extinguish until Hiccup was fast asleep. He blinked, they blinked. He rolled over, they silently moved to the other side of the bed to once again illuminate the dark circles under the teens eyes. Though he knew none of the dragons had any malice in their actions, as yet another high pitched scream echoed across Berk, Hiccup couldn't help but think about how much sleep this friendship was costing the people of the village.


	3. Dialouge

AN: "quotations are Hiccups speech" Toothless has no marks and 'Astrid has single quotations'

Sorry bout the (overly) long wait, but my American lit teacher wants one or two essays a week, and that's taxing on my muse. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, they do give a great deal of motivation, but school takes much of that motivation away again. Critiques are welcome, heck flame me if I gives some clue as to what I can improve on. This is my first time with dialogue, thus the laziness plot device. Also, some liberties were taken in regards to Latin names, dragon burial rituals, and Viking understanding of the United States trade marking system. First authors note .

Pretty much everything belongs to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks. If they want to take this literature and make it into something, it's all theirs. (First disclaimer!)

Dialogue

"What are you doing?"

I am attempting to excavate the rest of this Deadlius Nadderius so that she can be given a decent burial as per draconian customs, not like you will understand me. Stand by for imminent misinterpretation.

"Toothless, are you trying to bury that bone?"

Right on cue.

"Toothless, the last couple holes were kinda out of the way, I could live with those, but this is the center of the village square and it's a pretty big hole."

Well, it's not my fault there are so many skeletons buried around here; this was once a war zone after all.

"This was once a war zone, there are bones everywhere already, we don't need any more…don't give me that look, that's my look, trademark to Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third and you can't use it!"

And you're going to stop me, aren't you Mr. Skinny. Come over here and try it Slender Man.

"I know that look too; you just insulted me with your mind! Well, whatever it was right back at you senor Slug Wings."

Comrade crackpot!

"Scum brain!"

More

"Yeah, well you're a d-

'HICCUP!'

"-orable! I mean look at those eyes Astrid, they're massive and shiny, and aggravating, and uh... Astrid! What exactly are you doing, uh, outside?"

'… I'm going to ignore that-'

"Thank you"

'–for now.' but anyway, what are YOU doing in a hole while it's raining, having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, at night, in your underwear.'

"Well, it's quite simple really, I didn't have time to put any clothes on, then the rain started, and then Toothless dug a hole, then he looked at me and…"

'Toothless what? What exactly did he do? I don't think I heard that right but I think you just accused him of looking at you. Well, look at him-'

Picture of innocence, picture of innocence.

'- he's the picture of innocence!'

Ha! I win Sticky!

"Look at the deceit in his eyes; he's a pathological liar I tell you!"

'Well, let's hear you side of the story. Explain away.

"Well, he sorta gave me this look…"

'…'

"It was my look, he stole it! Then he called me something derogatory."

'With his eyes?'

"Yeah, exactly!"

'Obviously, I hate it when my mother calls me to dinner from across the village with her eyes. But, by all means continue your riveting story of intrigue and betrayal.'

"Well, then I retorted and I think he called me something else and then we kept going and then you came and here we are. All good, right?"

'You think? Are you sure you weren't just imagining things, or better yet maybe it was the eyes on those hills over there that were insulting you, and poor Toothless never said a thing?'

The hills have eyes! Where?

'Look, now he's turned his back on you.'

"Actually, I think he's looking for the ocular hills…"

'What was that?'

"Nothing."

"Hmm… well, I think you two need some quality bonding time, and I know just how arrange that.

"Oh no, not that again! I'll stop, I promise, just don't make me go through that again!"

'Too late for that now, maybe next time you will develop schizophrenia at a more appropriate time of day. Oh Toothless, Hiccup here appears to have contracted a horrible, lethal disease.

What disease? Just give me a name and cure and its days are numbered!

"Astrid, what are you doing?!"

'In order to be cured, Hiccup has to spend the next three days in his bedroom, completely alone'

Ok, I can do that, now what is it called so I can doom it to oblivion.

"Astrid, please stop! I have things to do, a life to live!"

'What is it called you ask? Why, it's very familiar to us all. It is called Leaky Eye-Juicitis.

HE MUST BE SAVED!

"What have you done Astrid?!"

Must protect Hiccups eyes…!

"…"

…

'…'

'And there go my problems for the weekend. Now, about these holes…'


	4. Untitled

This story starts as you sit far from earth, among the stars, looking down upon a still, silent earth caught in the grip of winter. The view is picturesque, and the blue ball is idyllic and seems peaceful. Look closer and you will see that the dark side of the planet is consumed by a giant mass of clouds, a mid-winter blizzard working its ponderous way across the northern isles. Sneak a look at one of these rocky outcroppings, surrounded on all sides by lethally cold water and buffeted by piercingly cold winds, and you might spy a small village eking out its place among the rocks. It's dark, the inhabitants fast asleep and comfortable in their fire-warmed dwellings. This is a false peace, for these people are at war, a petty war fought over simple misunderstandings. But, observe as a sharp, bright point of light flares up in a small cove a little ways into the forest that borders the community. A young boy sits, seemingly alone with a small candle, leaning back against the black rocks that make up the cove walls. From a distance he appears as innocent as a newborn lamb, peaceful and content, but a closer examination shows his anxiety, worry over the fighting, spawned by an understanding of the futility of it all. As you watch with curiosity the candle flickers, then goes out. The boy sighs, not with sadness or annoyance, but with the resonance of a man amused inside at the irony of the world. After a moment there is a flash of blue light, and the candle flares to life with an emboldened light. This revealing light allows you to see that the boy is supported not by the rock, but by the most feared predator of the north, feared even by the lions to the south and yeti's of the great mountains. The child mumbles his thanks, and the two continue to sit quietly, seemingly at perfect peace despite their resolute opposition of the natural order. The stars see this and look to each other, taking in their raging bodies and lethal radiances, and each says to himself: If such a peace can exist there, why not here? And the boy looks up, and through a break in the weakening storm saw the stars burning steady, bright, and said to himself: If such a peace can exist there, why not here?

Well, why not?


	5. A Case Study on the Effects of Alcohol

AN: Well. Bigger is better, yes? So, you get bigger this time. Not too much to say, except that this is part 1 of 2. Well, it's technically parts one and two of three, but they came together with enough speed that I stuck them together. Now, to outline my mistakes: In the last chapter, my authors note was removed, along with some small editing. Most of that note was unimportant, but the major points were 1: A thank you to my beta, G'Lek, who was responsible for editing in both this and that chapter. 2: I couldn't think up a name for the last chapter, so I would like to put it up to the community. If you think of something that fits, say so and I'll get around to picking one and adding it in, along with the editing that was lost. So, I think that's it. Oh, and thanks for the favorites/reviews! It would be difficult to justify writing these if no-one ever seemed to like them.

I own nothing in this text that could be used against me in a court of law. It most likely belongs to Dreamworks or Cressida Cowell. A paragraph toward the end was written by my editor, G'Lek, and thus any non-trademarked print belongs to him.

A Case Study on the Effects of Alcohol on the Common Northern Breeds of Dragon (as well as a rare Night Fury).

Main room of the Haddock household.

It was an average day for Hiccup, full of a distinct lack of anything worth having in a day, with the exception of sleep. Sleep is always good. But, midday is no time to be unconscious unless you want to wake up with the house burning down around you. So Hiccup sat, and drew, and sat, and was bored. Until, as with most days, the latest adventure began with his father sitting him down at the table for a talk, and a beer (for Stoick, not Hiccup).

"Son, I want to have a bar-raising."

"A what?"

"A bar-raising. Where we get a bunch of villagers together and build a bar. Then we party for hours."

"Again? Shouldn't you be more interested in tearing down one of our five plus bars?"

"Tear down a bar? Blasphemy! No, this bar will be for the dragons, so they can join in the intoxicating joy and revelry we Vikings ooze from our skin!"

"…Eww… Dad, do you really think it's a good idea to mix giant, living bonfires and highly flammable, idiocy-inducing liquid, especially in a small, enclosed wooden building? Also, I don't think that's joy that comes out of drunken Vikings, more like… stupid, visceral stupid."

"Son, I am disappoint. Just because you're smart doesn't mean I don't have my moments."

"You certainly have moments, just not many intelligent ones"

"If you're so concerned then I will have it built in the forest. Nothing bad can happen there.

"'Cept a forest fire"

"I'll have the cooper make some extra-large mead barrels, and..and you can design the building!"

"More like dig the graves…but I suppose I owe it to the dragons to make this fiasco as quick as possible.

"This is great! Father and son, working together for the good of the village!"

"O joy, we can be remembered throughout history as the pair that turned the forest, and likely the village, into a burning mess of drunken insanity.

1 week later, in Hiccups bedroom:

"Gahh!" Hiccup cried in exasperation, the sound ringing throughout the mostly empty room. He was sitting gloomily at his desk with a sprawl of designs in front of him, glaring at the wall as if it had stolen his left sock.

"Why, why would he not want a dirt floor? Does he really want to be completely surrounded by fire? Have every part of his body, down to his very toes, burning in tandem, or does he actually think the building will last more than a day? Oh, and with a dirt floor we just bury them on the spot, rather than moving them off the inevitable rock foundation first. Then we put a stick in the dirt pile, call it a memorial and be done!" he waved his arms manically throughout his speech, knocking over decorations and scattering diagrams in his flurry.

Toothless poked his head in, wondering if his friend might be under attack by squirrels. After realizing the situation, he laid down in his usual spot, resolving to keep an eye on the hormonal teenager, in case the squirrels came back. _Darn squirrels_. Said teenager sighed, calming down, and began collecting his papers.

"This must be what it's like to be an unwilling accessory to murder… ah well, I'll figure something out, some ingenious way to stop the place from…"

He paused, watching as one of the papers was picked up by a breeze and lofted out the window, making as if to sail away with the ever-blowing winds on a long, grand journey of epic proportions, only to be turned to ash by an errant fireball, likely originating from a bored Terror. Hiccup stared after it a moment before turning back to Toothless.

"From that! From burning to a crisp, along with everyone in it! He cried, gesturing back out the window.

"Oh, and leave the Terror alone, it didn't know what it burned." Toothless huffed, abandoning his diabolical plans. The Terror would survive. _For now._

"Well, nothing for it but an experiment. I can't make a building drunk-dragon proof without knowing what a drunken dragon does. Meaning you, my friend, are going to get very tipsy, and hopefully reveal something useful in your stupor."

Toothless looked at him blandly for several seconds, before deftly incinerating a paper off the top of the pile resting on Hiccups desk.

"Oh come on, it'll be all fun and games. See, I already got it all planned out." He held up a piece of paper for the dragon to see. Said dragon barely gave it a glance before sending it up in smoke as well.

"Hey, it's a good plan. I've nearly finished forging the clamp. I only need some measurements so it fits around your…NO! nonono, okay I'll scrap it! Just don't burn down the forge, we need that!" He cried as the reptilian flamethrower began stalking out the door with an evil glint in his already perturbed eyes.

"Forget the clamp, how bout… Oh! You can go into the cove, and I'll roll the barrels down to you. That's much simpler, right?"

_Nothing will ever be simple in this wo__rld, but…_The nuclear arsenal with wings hesitantly nodded, if only because it was at least a sane plan, and didn't involve an iron clamp on his… he shuddered, then nodded more firmly. _Anything's better than that_.

Next Afternoon:

It was a beautiful day on Berk. That is to say, only a little rain and a hint of sunshine. A ways into the forest two boys were standing on the lip of a gorge surrounded by large barrels, looking down toward the far away ground.

"A-are you sure this is safe? For him I mean, a Jorgenson would never be scared of a dragon that small," the larger one boasted, motioning toward the dark form pacing the ravine floor. "But will he be… happy?

"Snotlout, he's a Night Fury. It wasn't that long ago that he was on a thousand-Viking kill streak. If he came after you, you would wet yourself, and then run screaming. Yes this is safe, or at least he doesn't have any objections and I trust him to know what will be dangerous and stop it. A step better than what I can claim… But, let's get started. Just roll one of the barrels over and duck."

"Alri… wait, duck? Why duck, I thought you said this was safe?!"

"Well, safe for me, but Toothless likes you a whole lot less. In fact, I would bet he has some long term grudges with the great Jorgensons."

"Uh, right, well I better go…uh…go train! Yeah, that's it. It's not like I'm running or anything, I just need to practice my…axe-work! Have fun with your dumb, but completely not-scary experiment. Nerd." The large man-child turned and began stalking away with speed. In fact, he moved so fast it could almost be called fleeing. Hiccup sighed and turned to glance at the barrels then turning back, only to meet deep green reproachful eyes.

"Sigh…yeah; I suppose I should have redirected him. He'll find out anyway, when he reaches the sea cliffs and not the village. How did you get up here anyway, you could never get out before?" The moody nuclear weapon began to turn towards a small indent, but Hiccup looked away and covered his eyes.

"Never mind, don't tell me. It just means more work, and I'm already stressed near the limit. While you're up here would you mind helping me…" they both cocked their heads as a piercing scream filtered through the forest, followed by a resounding splash. "Well, I see Snotty found the sea cliffs. Anyway, could you help me move these barrels a better position, I can barely roll them. They just need to get the edge like… wait, these are empty! When did that happen? They were full when we brought them here, or I wouldn't have needed my favorite cousin. He certainly didn't drink any of it, I was watching for that. In fact, the only time I wasn't watching was when… Toothless, did you drink it?!"

The scaly air-superiority fighter gave him a look that would speak volumes to most. To Hiccup it went somewhere along the lines of "_well you were gonna give it to me anyway, I just sped you plans along a little" _Hiccup checked the other barrels, 7 in all, and found them all empty.

"You drank it all too, every drop. If that's true, then at this very moment you have enough mead in your body to kill a man. Well, kill me anyway; I think the village record is something like twelve barrels in ten minutes. But you're not acting any different or anything, not like that guy was. Do you feel any different? Are you hurt or mentally unstable, or even more insane than usual maybe? Anything at all? Can you still fl…run?"

Said being blinked, looked around for a moment, incinerated a bee that had looked at Hiccup funny (in the dragons opinion) and proceeded to plot a campaign of revenge against all insects. All in all, he was perfectly normal and entirely unimpaired.

"But how?" Hiccup mumbled as he paced the ridge, stopping to look at something or another at random. Toothless stayed just in front of the thinker, occasionally nudging him away from loose rocks or the cliff face. "No, nothing like that. No brew burns that color…wait now, why does it have to burn? Toothless, when the raids were in full swing, did dragons take mead barrels back to the nest with the other food?" A nod from the cloud of darkness. "And everything went to the queen?" Another nod.

"Alright then, let's think. On average we lost about six barrels every raid. That's a lot of mead over the years, but is it enough to cause a natural resistance? You certainly have something like that, but who knows how long you've been drinking this stuff. But the queen must have had some small resistance; she obviously didn't die from blood poisoning. "In the weeks leading up to the final battle, though... We were out of mead! Nothing, not a single barrel. First time in centuries probably. So... That means the queen must have sobered up, maybe for the first time in generations. In fact, that's probably the reason it attacked. It was suffering the worst hang over in history. The catapults pounding on the mountain must have been like having giant hammers pounding on her head. She came out, saw who was causing the racket... And, well... You know what happened next, right Toothless?"

The Night Fury nodded. He remembered it quite well, including those horrifying few seconds as Hiccup fell towards the raging inferno that was the death of the queen.

"Shame," Hiccup sighed. "We probably didn't HAVE to kill her, but then, we would have probably died ourselves. Maybe not from her, but then from lack of food because of the constant raids. Not to mention she'd never fit into the village..."

Toothless nudged Hiccup in the middle of his back. He could tell when the boy was starting to brood about what had happened in the past, something Toothless considered extremely unhealthy given how depressed it could make the young Viking. Hiccup jerked slightly, looking back at the Night Fury. He patted the scaled head.

"Thanks, bud." He said, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Well, off we go. Back to the village I suppose, although we could detour and save Snotlout on the way…maybe." Boy and dragon looked to each other for a moment before shrugging and walking off toward home, and away from the sea cliffs.


	6. Untitled (Snowstorm Fluff) Extended

Untitled

This story starts as you sit far from the earth among the stars, looking down upon a still, silent planet caught in the grip of winter. The view is picturesque, and the blue ball is idyllic and all seems peaceful. Look closer and you will see that the dark side of the planet is consumed by a gigantic mass of clouds, a mid-winter blizzard working its ponderous way across the northern isles. Sneak a look at one of these northern outcroppings, surrounded on all sides by lethally cold water and buffeted by piercingly cold winds, and you might spy a small village eking out its place among the rocks. The village is dark, the inhabitants fast asleep and comfortable in their fire-warmed dwellings.

This is a false peace, for these people are at war, a petty war fought over simple misunderstandings. Their neighbors to the north were raided by men from the far south and, finding no one else to blame, they turned their anguish and aggression toward the south most colony they knew of. So began a long grueling war, as a great and turbulent stretch of water separated the two combatants, and it could take weeks for a group of warriors to reach their targets. It took all of their people's great strength and devotion to reach their destination, and even when they arrived, very few returned. For now all rest in this south-most colony, but in the morn another wave of enemy ships is expected to arrive, and all the while the unknown enemy to the south grows stronger.

But, observe as a sharp, bright point of light flares up in a small cove a little ways into the forest that borders the community. A young boy sits, seemingly alone with a small candle, leaning back against the black rocks that make up the cove walls. From a distance he appears as innocent as a newborn lamb, peaceful and content, but a closer examination shows his anxiety, worry over the fighting, spawned by an understanding of the futility of it all. As watch with curiosity as the candle flickers, then goes out. The boy sighs, not with sadness or annoyance, but with the resonance of a much older man, one who is amused inside at the irony of the world. After a moment there is a flash of blue light, and the candle flares to life with an emboldened light. This revealing glow shows that the boy is supported not by the rock, but by the most infamous predator of the north, feared even by the Nemean lion to the south and great eastern dragon Susanoo. The child mumbles his thanks, and the two continue to sit quietly, seemingly at perfect peace despite their resolute opposition of the natural order.

After some time the two arose in unison, a testament to their synchronicity, and the boy begins his journey back to his village, while the beast turned toward a different area of the ravine. As the boy walked back to his home, he bemoaned the evils of war and conflict, traitorous talk to be coming from one of the tribe, whose history was red with blood and soured by constant conflict but never a hint of dissent. While these words were meant only for him, several others of his age overheard from their hiding place in the scrub just off the path.

They watched him with dark, angry eyes that held a clear intent to harm. Each carried a small, sharp cutting tool of some sort, held readied in eager hands. As the boy crossed in front of the scrub, they leaped out as a group, stumbling and tripping over each other before arranging themselves to block his path. The largest called out in a gruff voice, demanding an explanation for the wayward youth's nighttime excursion, and revealing that several other journeys out into the forest had occurred in the dead of the night.

They boy was nervous now, even scared at the sight of the potentially lethal weapons. He glanced around hurriedly, but found no outlet of escape. Sensing weakness, the group advanced on him, faces leering in the moonlight. Trying to maintain the distance between them, the boy backed away, only to trip on a protruding root and fall; he gave a cry of pain as his head hit the ground. The others, sensing blood, rushed toward their downed prey, only to stop when a low whistling scream began to build in the air.

Themselves worried now they quickly spread out, looking under bushes and behind trees for the source of the noise. Their leader, unperturbed, advanced on the fallen youth, picking him up by the shirt and preparing his digging implement for a stab in the dark. Just as the tool began hurtling toward the exposed neck, the screaming noise reached a skull-vibrating crescendo as a bolt of shadow rushed out of the brush, causing the deadly point, and the arm which was holding it, to disappear. The brutish boy looked at his new stump for a moment, before the shadow rushed forward again and lifted him up before throwing him against a tree some fifteen feet distant, knocking him out instantly.

The rest of the "fight" was finished in short order, as each attacker was lifted up and dashed against the same tree, each landing atop his fellows in a small stack. The shadow moved to stand protectively in front of the fallen adolescent, and for several seconds all was still and silent. After confirming the lack of threats the creature, the same being that lived in the ravine of course, moved to help the boy stand, then sidled over to the pile of anger-management cases. He glared at them for a time, the sat back on his haunches and as he drew back his head a blue glow began to emanate from his jaws, clearly intending to vaporize the loutish group.

The boy rushed forward, calling out "nien Tannenlaus, nien!" The creature, or Tannenlaus as it was evidently named, jerked his jaw closed and looked over at the boy, his pride somewhat stung. He was a great predator, feared by everything and bested only once in his long existence, and to let an attacker live was a mark of shame against those with his skill in death-dealing. But he owed his life to the small, squishy creature who called his name, and to ignore such a debt was to invite misery and misfortune into one's life. He liked the little boy anyway, and understood his compassion for life. After a final once-over to ensure no harm was done, the left to return to his place of sleep. The boy looked for a moment more at his helpless enemies, and then turned to return to his home as well.

The stars see this and looked to each other, taking in their raging bodies and lethal radiances, and each said to itself: That boy was a member of the greatest warrior culture that will ever walk the earth, yet he allowed his enemies to live even when they had attacked first, while one of the most prideful creatures in that same world bent his will to a child with not even a whimper. The same thought passed though the minds of every observing entity: If such peacefulness and goodwill can exist there, why not here? And the boy looked up, and through a break in the weakening storm saw the stars burning steady, bright, and said to himself: If such a peace can exist there, why not here?

Well, why not?

There, a new chapter, sorta. I have no spare time to new chapters right now, but this was done quick and on a spur of inspiration, soooooooo…. I don't know. I think that's about all. I have another original chapter in the works, but… school. That's my excuse, school. I will probably go back and renovate the first two chapters, just to appease my inner perfectionist.

All historical, mythical, and contemporary references are purposeful. Try to find them all!


End file.
